


Front Page News

by edxwin_elric



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Smut, Emotional Hurt, Engagement, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Mutual Pining, One Night Stands, POV Multiple, Romance, Romantic Angst, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2019-11-23 08:11:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18149333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edxwin_elric/pseuds/edxwin_elric
Summary: Post-canon au where Riza gets blindsided by Fuhrer Mustang’s engagement announcement.





	1. Blindsided

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: the ending will likely leave you dissatisfied/wanting more.
> 
> This was originally an anon request from about a year ago that I let fall to the side. However, now that I’ve started it, it seems to be transforming into a much longer fic than intended. I apologize that I’m not sure when I’ll be able to continue it.

**_Riza_ **

Someone is knocking on the door. Banging might actually be a better word. I would answer it, but I can’t seem to move. The front page of the newspaper is burned into my mind. The headline and photo and article all swirling around on a loop. It’s like I’m stuck in a nightmare, but I can’t wake up.

Hayate whines at my feet, and the rapping on the door gets more urgent.

“Riza Hawkeye! Open up!”

Rebecca. I should’ve known she’d come. Taking a deep breath, I turn woodenly toward the door and go to open it.

“What’s the emergency?” I ask as naturally as I can, even though I know exactly why she’s here.

“What’s the—are you okay?”

“Um, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Don’t do that,” she mutters, pushing inside. “If _I’ve_ seen it, I know you have.”

“Are you talking about the news article?”

“Am I talking about the news article?” she repeats slowly. “Um yes, if by ‘news article’ you mean, the front page, above the fold engagement announcement for Fuhrer Mustang and his beautiful fiancé who _isn’t you?”_

I feel bile burn my throat, and I head to the kitchen for something to wash it down.

“Where are you going?” Rebecca follows me. “We need to talk about this.”

“What’s to talk about?” I mumble, reaching in my cabinet for a mug. “He’s my superior; I’m his subordinate. If he’s decided to get married, he has no obligation to run it by me.”

“And what? You’re just fine with him marrying—what’s her name?—Mariana?”

More like Princess Mariana Natalia Rico, not that it makes a difference. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I force a smile as I prepare my drink.

“Sure. If he’s happy; I’m happy.”

“What are you pouring in that mug?”

Before I can stop her, she grabs it out of my hand and glances at it before frowning at me.

“Really?”

“I’m thirsty,” I reply defensively.

“It’s six o’clock in the morning. You’re not having vodka.”

I watch as she pours the contents of my mug down the sink, and suddenly the tight control on my emotions slips. I turn and press my palms to the counter as hot tears and painful sobs rack my body.

“Oh, Riza,” Rebecca whispers, turning back to me.

“No,” I choke. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Honey–”

“He’s perfectly entitled to marry whoever he wishes,” I hiss. “I have no right to be upset.”

“Except that he loves you,” she murmurs softly. “You know he does.”

“Don’t say that!” I turn and look at her, my hands swiping at my face. “That only makes this worse. I mean…he didn’t even tell me.”

“That he was going to propose?”

“Any of it. I… I didn’t know he was even seeing anyone else.”

Which is pretty spectacular considering I know everything about him and spend almost every minute of the day with him.

“Oh my God,” she gasps.

“I just…woke up this morning and went out with Hayate to get the paper…”

I feel her hand against my back, and I hiccup softly as she makes soothing circles with her palm.

“You should call in sick today,” she suggests quietly.

“No.” I step away from her and cross to the sink to splash some cold water on my face and neck. “I can’t do that. He can’t know anything is wrong.”

“Riza…”

“He can’t know, Rebecca. I’m serious.”

“One look at you, and he’ll know something is wrong. Besides, he’s the one that did this, so he shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Don’t be so hard on him.”

“He’s marrying another woman and shoving it in your face! He deserves to feel some guilt!”

“Everything he does, he does for Amestris, and I promised to be beside him while he does it.”

That’s part of the reason I feel the way I do about him.

“But she’s going to be beside him. And underneath him. And on top of him–”

“Rebecca, please!” I cut her off. “That’s not helping.”

“I’m not trying to help. I’m trying to get you to wake up. Go tell him he can’t marry her!”

“Why? Because I’m in love with him? Because he should marry me? You know that can’t happen. At the very least, that would get me transferred if not fired.”

“But…if he marries her…”

“If he marries her, I’ll deal with it. Just like I’ve dealt with everything else.”

“Riza…”

“You should go Rebecca, before we’re both late to work.”

Without waiting for her response, I leave the kitchen and head to my room to get ready. When I come back out, she’s gone.

 

**_Roy_ **

The second Riza arrives at my office, I know she knows. My gut is roiling, and I want to bang my head against the wall. One look at her, and I can tell she’s in pain. The same pain I feel every time I breathe. I need to get her alone to talk to her, but we have meetings all morning.

With every passing minute, I become more acutely aware of her. She’s quieter than usual, and her eyes are colder, distant. I’ve never been so tempted to comfort her. To touch her. But I doubt she’d welcome it now.

When our last meeting is finally over, and we’re back in my office, I excuse my other security and staff. After a few moments of silence, she approaches my desk.

“Did you need something, sir?”

“I’m trying to figure out how to bring it up,” I confess.

“Bring up what?”

“My engagement,” I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Oh, right.” She nods. “I guess congratulations are in order.”

Her voice is suddenly quieter, and I can hear the buried emotion in it.

“Don’t do that,” I whisper.

“Do what, sir?”

I stand, walking around my desk until I’m right in front of her.

“Don’t pretend you’re okay with this.”

“But, I am. If this is what you want, then–”

I reach up and touch her face, gently sliding my fingers along her cheek.

She gasps softly, and her eyes widen.

Fuck but she’s beautiful.

“Riza.” Her name feels wrong on my tongue, and also so completely right. “I…”

“No.” She shakes her head as if snapping out of a trance and steps back, tears shining in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do this,” she hisses.

“I swear, I was going to tell you–”

“You didn’t!” she cries, throwing her hand out. “You didn’t tell me! I was completely blindsided! How—how could you?”

“I didn’t have a choice!”

“You always have a choice!”

“I have to get married, Riza! I’m the fürher! It’s expected of me!”

“Then why didn’t you tell me about it? And why did it have to be her!”

“Rather than whom? You? You know that isn’t an option! You made your choice when you became my subordinate!”

“Well, I wish I’d chosen differently, then!”

“What?” I step back and blink at her. “You mean–”

“Yes!” She glares at me with her fists clenched at her sides. “I wish I’d never joined the military! I wish I’d never even met you!”

“Riza…”

Her lips begin to tremble with unshed tears, and I feel a muscle twitch in my jaw.

“This feels like…like a betrayal,” she chokes. “You…”

I take a step toward her, but she holds out her hand.

“No,” she hisses. “You don’t get to comfort me. Not when you caused this.”

I groan and walk away from her as I run my hand over my face.

“Would it make it any better if I told you I don’t love her?” I ask suddenly.

“What?” she gasps. “If you don’t love her, why are you marrying her?”

I turn to look at her before glancing up at the ceiling.

“For Amestris, of course. Why else?” I exhale slowly and meet her eyes. “Mariana is the daughter of the Prince of Aerugo. Marrying her would be purely political. An attempt to ease the tension with them caused by the border war and one of the first steps toward peace.”

“I thought we were past the days of marrying for politics. I agree that peace with Aerugo is important, but I didn’t think you’d propose a marriage union as a solution.”

“It wasn’t originally my idea,” I admit leaning against my desk. “During one of the peace talks with the prince, he mentioned his daughter. I made a comment about not having a first lady, with no intention of the two being related, but he seemed to think I was hinting at something more. Then, before I knew it, we were in discussions involving peace treaties and weddings.”

“Where was I during all of this?”

“It was during the time you were working with the Ishvalan refugees on the reconstruction. I knew how much it meant to you, and I didn’t want to interfere with it.”

“And now it’s too late to say no?” she asks incredulously. “Does the princess have any say in who she marries? What if she wants to marry for love?”

“She doesn’t,” I mutter, exhaling. “I’ve met with her several times in private–”

I see her visibly stiffen out of the corner of my eye, but I continue.

“She’s determined to do her duty to her country, and she’s confident she’ll make a good wife. She’s also said she finds me charming, and is hopeful we’ll grow fond of each other in time.”

“Fondness,” Riza murmurs with a hint of disdain. “The epitome of romance.”

“Clearly, it isn’t,” I snap, “but what more can she expect?”

“Forgive me,” she recants quietly. “Talk of the princess herself aside, where would this leave us?”

I groan and drag my fingers through my hair, desperately wishing tearing it out would solve this problem.

“I don’t know,” I confess. “But I know I need you with me.”

She’s quiet for a minute, and when she breaks the silence the sound of my name on her lips in _that_ tone, almost brings me to my knees.

“What?” I ask, hoarsely.

“I’m not sure I could come to work every day and see you, knowing you have someone else in your arms every night.”

“Riza…”

“What if it were me? How would you feel if I were engaged to another man?”

Pain cuts through my stomach, and I almost double over.

“Don’t ever say that,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Please.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off.

“Look. I know this situation isn’t ideal…”

“Obviously.”

“But it wouldn’t change anything between us.”

She raises her eyebrows, and I quickly continue, dropping my voice as I move toward her.

“You know my feelings for you,” I say, almost pleading with her. “And I know you feel the same. My marriage won’t change that.”

“I have to disagree,” she bites back. “It will change everything.”

“It doesn’t have to,” I counter. “You’re still with me, by my side at all times. You know me better than anyone, things that she’ll never know. And I know you the same way.”

“So what? You expect me to live my life watching as you get married and play house with Mariana? Seeing her on your arm at parties and events? Watching her stand beside you as you campaign? All the while, I’m standing in the shadows, hoping for a secret glance or the slightest brush of your hand? That and the knowledge that you love me? That’s supposed to be enough?”

“Riza­–”

“And what about your family?” she murmurs.

“My what?” I blink.

“Your family,” she echoes, emotion leaking into her voice. “Your children. If you marry her and treat her as your wife, sooner or later she’ll be pregnant.”

I shut my eyes slowly, and wince. I hadn’t even considered starting a family with Mariana. But I suppose she’s right. It would look suspicious if we didn’t. Fuck.

“I don’t think I can live like that,” she whispers finally.

“I always imagined you’d be the mother of my kids,” I confess.

She looks away, and I see a single tear slip down her cheek.

“So did I,” her small voice trembles.

I open my mouth to say…something, but a knock on the door stops me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her wipe her face and stand up tall, a picture of composure.

“We’ll talk about this more later.”

“I’d prefer if we didn’t,” she says quietly as she heads toward the door.

I straighten my uniform and move behind my desk just as she reaches for the handle. And when the door opens, it’s as if the conversation never happened. Back to business as usual.

But this isn’t the end of this. I can’t afford to lose her.

This office? This rank? This power? Everything I’ve gained as the leader of this country is all meaningless without her by my side. She’s the light that guides me, and without her I am lost.

In chess, the king is practically helpless without a queen, and I’m not ready to sacrifice mine.


	2. Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza tries to take her mind off of things by any means necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know people wanted this to continue, so I found the time. I really am not sure where this story is going exactly though, so we’re all just along for the ride.

**_Riza_ **

Tilting my head back, I pour the amber liquid down my throat, ignoring the bitter burn that comes with it. I set the empty glass down forcefully and nod to the bartender for a refill. He raises his eyebrows at me, questioning my decision. Given the line of shot glasses already turned over on the bar top, I should probably listen to his unspoken advice, but tonight, I don’t give a damn. Fuck drinking responsibly. I’m here to drink recklessly and to excess.

Narrowing my eyes at the bartender, I lift my empty glass and wiggle it between my fingers, reiterating my request. He sighs and turns around to grab a bottle from the top shelf. I wait while he pours.

I’m not really sure what I’m doing here, aside from succumbing to the old practice of drinking to forget. Drinking to escape. Except that I’ll never be able to forget or escape this. No matter what I do. Even if I resigned from the military it would follow me forever. The fürher is a public figure, and the media will follow him and his family for decades.

But even if that wasn’t the case, the scars of my past would never let me move on.

My fresh drink lands in front of me, and I immediately reach for it. Only this time, I hesitate.

Why did I come here?

I look around the dimly lit room. There are a few couples sitting in booths, and some individuals spread out along the bar. The music in the background is loud enough to keep conversations private but quiet enough to hear the person next to you. Still…

I could’ve gotten just as drunk at home on my sofa.

“General Hawkeye?”

I turn at the voice, my glass halfway to my lips.

“Havoc,” I say when I recognize him. “I didn’t realize you were here.”

“I’m here more often than you,” he points out before his eyes shift to the counter in front of me. “Don’t tell me you’re drinking alone.”

“I rarely drink any other way,” I confess. “Unless Hayate counts.”

“I wouldn’t think so,” he laughs softly. “As dogs go, he’s pretty great, but I doubt he makes a good drinking buddy.”

“Fair point.”

He takes the stool beside me and orders another round for us both. It’s quiet for a moment while I finish the drink I already have.

“So, what brought this on?” he asks in a more serious tone.

I blink and look over at him.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re too drunk to be deceptive, Riza,” he says softer, his use of my name making my breath catch. “Was it the engagement announcement?”

I swallow hard, trying to still the tremor in my hand as I set my glass down.

“You’ve been talking to Rebecca,” I bite back accusingly.

“Rebecca who? Catalina?” He frowns. “Hardly. I haven’t spoken to her since the promised day. I had thought about asking her out, but–”

“You should,” I interrupt, “You’re exactly her type.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Tall, muscular, strong jaw, plus a steady income,” I spout off quickly. “Not to mention you have a great ass.”

He coughs on his drink, and I wince. I forget how alcohol destroys any kind of filter I have.

“You think I have a great ass?” he gasps through a laugh. “I never knew you were looking.”

“That was kind of the idea,” I mutter.

“Mustang would hate it if he knew.”

A pang hits my chest, and I suck in air.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, I–”

“Don’t mention it,” I cut him off before taking a long drink. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not your fault either,” he says gently.

“I know.”

I know exactly whose fault it is. The problem is, as angry as I am at him, I still can’t blame him completely. He’s the fürher, and, like he said, he does need to marry. It isn’t either of our faults that it can’t be to me.

“Riza?” Havoc’s hand on my arm surprises me, and I jerk my head up to look at him. “Are you okay?” he murmurs.

“What?”

“Riza…you’re crying.”

“Shit.” I reach up to wipe at my face, but he gets there first, his rough thumbs brushing against my cheeks.

“What do you say I take you home?”

I look up at him, his hands still holding my face, his voice so deep and comforting. Before I realize it, I have my hand around his neck, pulling him against me.

The kiss takes him by surprise, and he pulls away immediately.

“Riza, hold on,” he sputters. “This isn’t—we shouldn’t–”

“Says who?” I fire back, desperation leaking into my tone. “No one would ever know, and—and–”

I start to tremble again, the threat of tears burning in my eyes. What the hell am I doing?

“I’m taking you home,” he sighs as he stands and grabs my hand. I watch as he throws a wad of bills on the bar—enough to cover my tab and then some, before he leads me out and hails a cab. He gives the driver my address and climbs in beside me. During the silent ride to my place, he keeps hold of my hand, and I’m grateful even though I don’t say anything.

“You should really go to bed, Riza,” he tells me outside my apartment as I dig in my purse for my key. “Call in tomorrow so you can sober up.”

He starts to turn away when I slide the lock open, but I turn back and grab his arm.

“What?”

“Are you sure?” I ask breathlessly. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”

“It’s a bad idea, Riza,” he murmurs, stepping closer to me and tilting his head down.

“So, you don’t want to?” I whisper, watching as his pupils flare with desire.

“That isn’t…”

“Please Jean,” I coax desperately, reaching up to slide my hand around his neck. “Please,” I repeat softly. “Just one night. For me.”

Our lips are almost touching. His hand slides around my back, pulling me against him. If he moved his head just the tiniest—

“Dammit.”

He says the word directly into my mouth as he slams into me. I go back on one foot, but he braces an arm on the wall behind me, keeping me steady. He turns his head, and I moan as the kiss deepens. It’s been too long since I’ve felt this. So long, I can’t even remember the last time I…

“We need to go inside,” he grunts as he tears his lips from mine. “Before someone sees.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “Right.”

He leads the way inside and up the stairs, stopping to kiss me again on the landing. And again, outside my door. As soon as we’re inside, my mind shuts off. I should be worried about Hayate, but I’m not. All I’m thinking about is Jean. The feel of him. The taste of him. The way he strips off his clothes. And my clothes.

The distance from the front door to the bedroom is a flurry of kisses and moans. Clothing and bare skin. By the time we reach the bed, we’re both naked, and I feel like I’m going crazy.

“Riza,” he stops, his bare chest hovering over me, his lower body nestled between my spread thighs. “Are you sure–”

Planting my feet in the bed, I buck my hips against his, cutting him off.

“Just fuck me, Jean.” I can’t hide the pain in my words, and I know he hears it, but he doesn’t hesitate again.

With one quick motion, he’s inside me. I want desperately for it to hurt, to burn, to feel wrong somehow…

But it doesn’t.

He waits for a minute before moving, giving my narrow passage time to adjust to his size.

He really should call Rebecca. She’d lose her mind at the sheer size of him.

I shut my eyes and turn my head to the side. I’m in the middle of sex. Why would I think that right now?

“Riza, are you hurt?”

I shake my head, reaching up to bury my fingers in his hair and pull his head down to me.

“No,” I gasp, hoping he can’t hear the ache in my voice. “Keep going.”

His lips land on my neck, and I crane it to give him access. At the same time, he begins moving. Gently at first, rocking against me, and then harder. Faster. His hands move over me—my breasts, my sides, my hips.

I feel my orgasm building quickly as he continues to pound into me. Our sounds and breaths grow wild, and I cry out as his teeth nip at my collarbone. His lips lock there, sucking and licking. My back arches, and I lock my legs around his waist, my heels digging into his ass.

“Riza,” he groans, and I know he’s close.

“Harder!” I cry out.

He lifts up on his elbows and his hips begin hammering into me, hard and rough. My fingernails dig into his shoulders, and I scream his name as I come.

Within seconds, his thrusts become erratic and before my climax fades, he groans and collapses on top of me, his huge cock jerking inside me.

We stay like that for several minutes, a tangle of sweat and limbs, both of us breathing heavily. He moves first, pushing up and gently pulling my legs from around him. I lower my arms, turning my head to the side as he slides off the bed and disappears into the bathroom.

Now that it’s over, I feel like crying. My body feels satiated and relaxed. And achy and sticky. And wrong.

Everything he did felt right, but now… I know it was wrong.

“I’m going to go now.”

I hear Jean’s voice in my doorway. I can’t move my head to look at him.

“Okay.”

“Sleep well, General Hawkeye.”

I wince at the title. Somehow that makes this worse.

I hear him let himself out, and after a while, I get up. I go to lock the door first, and then into my bathroom to shower. I let the hot water wash over me until it goes cold, but when I get out, I don’t feel any cleaner.

Pulling on my pajamas, I curl up in bed with Hayate and turn out the light. I had both alcohol and a mind-blowing orgasm tonight, so I should fall asleep easily.

But I can’t.

“Tonight was a mistake,” I confess to the darkness.

One that I can never take back. Fresh tears leak out from behind my closed eyelids, and this time…

They’re my fault.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to scream at me in the comments!


End file.
